


You and The Player

by EveningSkies



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Asriel Is A Good Brother, Big Brother Asriel, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Murder, Deltarune Spoilers, Feels, Flashbacks, Gen, Genocide Route, Hurt but no comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kris Has PTSD, Kris Is Not Okay, Kris Needs A Hug, Player Possesses Kris, Player needs a hug, Possession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Spoilers - Undertale Genocide Route, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Undertale Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 17:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16644899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningSkies/pseuds/EveningSkies
Summary: Disappointment.You don't know whether it's you or them that is speaking anymore and you can't even find it in you to care.Because you are a disappointment.So you step back and allow the Player to take control because you know that nothing you do matters in the end anyways. And if it does matter, then you always manage to find a way to mess it up. Maybe they can do things right for once and make you likeable in the process.





	You and The Player

You scream -

But all that comes out is a pathetic croak as your body shambles to the center of the room, all on its own. You scream louder this time, trying to gain control by lunging forward in desperation. Instead, your fingers feebly twitch by your side, toes curling into the plush carpet. Your mouth gapes in the imitation of a scream and your breathing hitches. Manically, they laugh and laugh at your attempts to regain control of your own body until they suddenly stop, lips thinning out as an eerie silence falls over the room.

Please, you weep in the silence. Please stop. Please leave me alone.

Giggling softly, the Player moves your body through the room that you had stayed in for the past seven years. They investigated Asriel's side thoroughly, taking notice in the various trophies and awards he had gained. Then they glanced at your barren side of the room and all you can hear is a repeated mantra.

Disappointment, that's all you are. Disappointment, disappointment, disappointment. Worthless. Nobody cares about you. Just give up. Disappointment.

You don't know whether it's you or them that is speaking anymore and you can't even find it in you to care.

Because you are a disappointment.

So you step back and allow the Player to take control because you know that nothing you they do matters in the end anyways.

It doesn't mean that you don't cry.

The Player maneuvers their body ("Not yours anymore," they remind you sweetly) out of their room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen that their mother and they frequently made chocolatey goodies in together. When Toriel greets them, they offer a genuine smile, and Toriel seems surprised. Then she beams at them, wider than you've seen her smile at you in a long time, and you feel your ("Mine." says the Player testily) heart sink. You know that your depression has been hard on her, but you can't help but feel somewhat hurt.

It's better this way, you think, as you sulk and slink around moodily in the back of your their mind.

The Dark World.

Your merciful adventures.

(You're glad you weren't in control, otherwise you would've lashed out and punched back from the fear that still lingered from the fists that hadn't stopped their blows despite your desperate pleas and strangled sobs. Strangers shouldn't treat your better than your birth parents, but they did.)

Susie.

(When she held chalk in her claws, all you could think about was the chalk dust. Dust, dust, covering your hands. No, not your hands. You hadn't killed anyone in this reality, but you know you had in some alternate reality. As someone that wasn't you. The Player distantly seems whisper something about someone named Chara, blaming them for the atrocious murders, but you knew. You could sense their shame and guilt as they begged for forgiveness in a hallway full of bones. Their blood splatters on the ground as a child's - you - scream echoes through the corridor. A skeleton whispers something about vengeance as he clutches the dusty red scarf wound around his neck and he whispers about broken promises with a grin that is so broken and tired that it makes your chest hurt. And the world resets in a flash of light and a patch of golden flowers.)

Lancer.

(Laughter and laughter and more laughter. Your baby brother wraps his chubby hand around your pinky finger. He is smiling and giggling as you blow raspberries in his face and place an exaggerated kiss on his nose. Later, when your father strikes down on him again and again, you find yourself screaming in desperation, begging your father to stop. You scream that he'll end up killing him if he's not careful, he's just a baby, don't hurt him - ! But you're too late and your brother stares up at you with wide, frightened eyes as his blood soaks your hands in your desperate attempts to stop the bleeding. All you can do is cradle him in your arms, sobbing apologies as his cries become softer and softer until they stop all together, his body going still in your arms. His screams haunt your dreams. You've never told anyone about what you saw. It was too much.)

Ralsei

(Soft, white paws reach out to you. You take them in your bruised hands as you are pulled to your feet by a small goat child in a green and yellow sweater. He whispers apologies over and over and he shakes at your torn and ragged clothing, stained with blood. You tell him its not yours and he begins to cry. You cry with him. And when he brings you to his parents, they treat you with such compassion. You feel sick. They don't know what a failure you are. They don't know you watched your brother die. So you bite the inside of your cheek and pretend and pretend until it becomes to painful to act anymore and you become a sullen, bitter child. Your gut wrenches as you hear Toriel sobbing at night wondering what she did wrong to make you so depressed when she had done nothing but loved you since you had stepped into their home.)

Your friends.

"My friends," the Player corrects cheerfully, and you fall silent. 

You wish that Asriel can come hold you tight and take away all of your fears like he always has. Like the being that has currently possessed you.

The Player reminds you that you cannot get rid of them with the impression of a satisfied smirk.

That evening, after your journey, Toriel gives them a gentle smile and a warm hug. You briefly attempt to gain control just to feel the comfort of your mother's arms, but the Player sniffs at you and shoves you aside like you're a pest.

Please.

But the Player refuses to listen.

Toriel releases them and urges them off to bed with a rather stern expression to which they beam and nod and bound up the stairs in long strides. They don't know that you're plotting.

"Good night," says the Player aloud with a sinister smile. You respond in kind and they're asleep within moments, allowing you to edge your way back into your body slowly.

Yours.

The knife that you had hidden under your pillow finally has a purpose. You grasp it in your sweaty hand, fumbling with it briefly before encasing it in a death grip. Summoning your soul, you narrow your eyes, before using the knife to wrench it from your chest and fling it into the birdcage, locking it with shaking hands.

"Stop!" the Player screams. "You don't know what you're doing!"

You know perfectly well what you're doing.

You've thought about it for so long.

You think of your baby brother as you plunge the knife into your chest.

And you scream with rage as you awaken at your save point just before the battle with the King.

 


End file.
